Not a typical life September 7, 1985

  

Safire will be here shortly, another excuse to see me while her husband is at home. She will use any excuse to show up or call.

Yesterday, she called me at the Woodridge store to ask about how to operate a camera she already knew how to work.

I’m flattered, but I’m also in doubt.

She is putting a lot of faith in me and therefore putting a lot of pressure on our friendship and love life.

Many, many moons ago, I wrote about not wanting to be anybody’s white knight. The role is just too difficult and the personal sacrifice too great.

There are just too many people out in this world that need to be saved.

And for Safire, life is so bad with her husband, anyone with a kind word for her suddenly becomes her savior.

Her talk scares me. She tells me she has loved me for a long time but never allowed herself to say it to me or anyone.

She is a bit put off by attitude, my lack of caring.

I suppose in some ways she is right. I’m very selective about how I expend my feelings, and some people I deal with daily who I can’t stand.

Like the lady who pulled up to the Clifton Fotomat booth last week, so arrogant, I told her to go fuck herself. I hate spoiled rich people who think they are superior just because they have money.

Safire was shocked, telling me I can’t go telling off everybody I dislike. I don’t. I’m very selective in that regard as well, focusing on those assholes I think deserve the special attention.

I’m also not caught up with traditional stuff like having a house, a wife, two kids, and a fancy car in the garage (I could use a new car but that’s another discussion). I would like to live some place remote, up in the mountains maybe, the way Pauly, Hank and I imagined years ago, but I wouldn’t be bent out of shape if I didn’t get it.

Safire wants all those things, typically America, her fears come out of not having that kind of life, as if she believes she will end up like her parents living in a trailer park somewhere. Her whole life seems to be bent on acquiring material things. She said she’s worked her whole life to get her own house, and now when she’s on the brink of getting one with her husband in Baltimore, I come along.

The problem is that she will want me to provide those things in the absence of her husband, and I’m not about to sell myself to a life style I know will make me miserable.

 

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